Breathe
by OzQueene
Summary: Valentino just wants Justin to breathe again. Justin/Valentino from "One Night" in season three. One shot.


**A/N:** This was written for simplelyric in livejournal's charity fandom auction for the Queensland floods a few months ago. She wanted something about the characters Justin and Valentino from the season three episode "One Night" - about how they cope with the events afterwards.

It's also my first shot at writing anything M/M, so I'd love to hear what you think.

Some swearing, and very brief mentions of sexual activities.

* * *

Justin didn't talk about it.

Valentino wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about it and just wasn't sure how, or if – in a strange sort of irony – he wanted to bury it completely. He watched as the wounds on Justin's hands slowly scabbed over and he watched the way the bruised colour beneath his eyes deepened.

And he didn't say anything either.

Philly always seemed so dark and so cold. Shadows and empty alleyways had never bothered Valentino before. He tried to pretend they didn't bother him now, if only for Justin's sake, but every hidden corner and every slight rustle in the wind seemed to taunt him with dangers. It didn't matter that they dangers were the same ones they had faced _before_ that night. They _seemed_ different. The shadows were darker.

Danger seemed so real and so tangible lately, and Valentino realised the only person to miss him if he fell into one of those shadows would be Justin.

He had come so close to falling in. It was Justin who had taken the fall into the shadows, and Valentino couldn't stop thinking about how close it had come to it being him.

One of the cops had handed Justin a card for a shelter. She'd flicked her eyes towards Valentino and he'd taken it as an invitation to go where Justin went. Not that he needed an invitation, exactly, but it had warmed him a little to have the little blonde cop include him in on things without actually saying anything.

Justin didn't want to go.

Valentino didn't either, but he wasn't sure how else they were going to survive. Neither of them could face the walk towards a car or a john anymore. The thought of separation struck fear into the both of them, but Valentino hoped Justin hadn't figured out just how afraid he was. He wanted to be brave, because Justin wasn't even pretending, and Valentino figured at least one of them needed to. He wasn't sure what would happen if he let fear grip him as well.

When he suggested they get the fuck out of Philly and try their luck somewhere else, Justin agreed immediately.

His only request was that it be somewhere warm.

Valentino didn't know how they were going to afford it, but he was determined to make it work. He had cousins somewhere in Florida, but he had no idea where and he had no real desire to find them.

But Florida sounded nice, and it didn't seem entirely impossible to get there if they took it slowly.

Bus tickets were surprisingly cheap. Valentino handed over crumpled notes tainted with cigarette smoke and sweat and shadows and he and Justin climbed aboard a bus to Richmond.

They sat at the back, watching everyone else. Valentino made snide comments under his breath and Justin smiled and nudged him. It felt almost normal.

Almost. Valentino wasn't sure how much longer he could keep the bravado up.

Justin never seemed to wake without sweat on his face, and Valentino wasn't sure how to soothe the nightmares out of him. Sometimes he just ignored it, and he hoped Justin would fade back into sleep without the need for thin reassurances.

Justin slept on and Valentino watched the sun setting outside the bus window as they rode further south. Guilt was adding to the constant turmoil in his stomach. He couldn't help but feel relieved it had been Justin and not him, and the shame gnawed away at him.

It turned to anger when they hit South Carolina, and Valentino started hooking again even when he had promised himself it was over. Getting to Florida meant they needed money.

It had been more of a hope than a promise, anyway, and he chastised himself for falling into such childish notions. Hope had long since gone grey and cold, and he felt stupid as he realised he'd allowed it to flare warm again.

Anger gave him bravery again, and it was a relief.

He tried not to take it out on Justin. Justin's eyes were still bruised with exhaustion and he still seemed so afraid of the dark. He jumped at loud noises and he breathed loudly whenever a stranger got too close.

And Valentino left him and ducked into alleyways and behind bus shelters and he earned them the money that would take them further and further away from Philly. And part of him started to hate Justin for feeling so afraid.

They broke into a public toilet block one night in some gaudy tourist spot near Florida's border. They'd hitched a ride in the back of a pick-up and had spent all afternoon watching the sky race overhead as they sped over the blacktop.

Justin avoided the stalls and bunked down by the sinks along the tiled walls, and Valentino started talking because he was sick of the silences stretching between them, and he was sick of not knowing what his place was anymore. He didn't want to be a hero and he didn't want to be a provider, and he didn't care if it sounded selfish.

He demanded that Justin talk about it, and Justin looked alarmed and then afraid, and he shook his head vehemently and rolled away from Valentino, into the shadow of the stalls.

Valentino followed him and wrapped his arms around him. Justin seemed thin and much smaller than he ought to be, and Valentino suddenly realised that he had thought too much of himself, and that he hadn't been supporting Justin at all – not in the way Justin needed to be supported.

Fear hit him again, but this time it wasn't about what had almost happened. This time he realised what he still had to lose.

Valentino murmured softly into the curve of Justin's neck. He apologised for not thinking things through, and for disappearing with strangers into shadows, even when it terrified both of them. He apologised for thinking warm weather would be enough to cure the memory of the cold and the dark. He apologised for not understanding, and he pleaded for a chance, because he wasn't used to feeling vulnerable. Life had dealt him hard blows and he'd taken them all with his head high, but he wasn't sure how to deal with the latest one to strike him.

And Justin sobbed and shook and kept his eyes tightly closed as he admitted he'd crawled into a box in the ground with no struggle, and he talked of how hot his breath had felt in that tiny space and how that had been the thing to spark his desperate struggles to surface. He shivered as he said he hadn't wanted to die in a space full of his own body warmth; that it would have been traitorous to his warm beating heart and blood.

And the cold on his skin as the box had been thrown open again had hurt, and it was like dying and being born again at the same time.

And the whole time – dying, waking, fighting, fading – he was alone. And he had thought it so unfair, that he would die so young and so solitary.

Valentino held him, but dare not tell him it would be all right. Instead, he promised Justin softly that they'd go on together – Philly, Florida, anywhere.

"You're not alone, now," he whispered.

Justin took his hand and Valentino felt him breathe deeply.


End file.
